Brazilian Wax And Tanning

ROOM 1 / LUCA MATTEI - CARLOTTA SENNA March 16 to 24


March 16 to 24

Luca Mattei / Carlotta Senna

OPENING HOURS Sunday, March 16 18:00

artistic research Luca Mattei and Carlotta Senna done separately, but sometimes follows a common route, as in this case, leads to devote their attention to a really secluded, isolated, a world circumscribed by its rules and its laws. Installation - Untitled, 2008 - is a work whose point of departure, especially intellectual, is photography. The photography as a tool of the attitude and narrative, as well as video, other form of storytelling that often occurs in the work of two artists. Speaking of the carrier pigeon, where he lives, from where, contains in itself infinite possibilities of interpretation, metaphor, other possible scenarios. An analysis of delicate yet intense that it seems to describe the personal story of individual characters, giving each of them to be unique for once, to stand out from the crowd.

This the starting point from which it took the form of text Marina Vagnoni , Every time I come , that accompanies the exhibition. The young student of philosophy allows us to imagine a world of complex relationships, comparable to that of humans that took the life of the cells in the small space of a pigeon loft on the roof of a metropolis.

every time I come to MARINA Vagner

Every time I go back and see from afar that roof full of holes coming up, I have the feeling of entering into an embroidery. I'm coming in there and breath odors.

Others are waiting for me: I have already seen for some time, and revived trumpeting the news of my coming.

Or I would not expect: Someone has occupied my corner, and I have to wander for a while 'begging for asylum, until one moved to pity you decide to place me next to him.

course we are just so many! But so many really. Sometimes it seems that the earth moves for trampling of our feet. Sometimes I almost dread to see a form similar to mine, too similar, as you saw me in a mirror.

The last time I really wanted to leave: it was rarely at home was an atmosphere so relaxed, warm . It will be that many people were on the road, and there was so much space. It hummed old verse from obscure phrases: heaven being closed, and embroidery paintings, warm, cold.

I picked flowers to be placed in a tiny corner of my cubicle, and other little things for those who are so gracious to show me the spot, later, in the case should not there be more for me.

fill my eyes of pictures and I soak smells, as gifts to those who have waited.

I was thinking how could the sky really close. That somewhere could come out of a cloth, and cover everything? What can fill the hole so as to prevent me to get out again?

That might not be so bad to spend all the rest of the time to sing, taunt each other, sleep, enjoy, get bored, without the hassle of having to collect rags from time to time and leave.

never to leave the den, its warm welcoming ...

strange figure. I had never thought of. Tempting, though.

sleep, and then sleep ...

What stupid thoughts. Who would ever big enough to fill the sky with a sheet? You can close all the holes in my roof embroidered? Perhaps he, the Great, who gives all and takes away everything? He could, yes. And I would, too.

This morning's sun is a joy. I would only get to confess my love.

But while it makes you burn it, and touch you and you and warms you mixes, he slowly becomes like fire burning, and it seems that you roast, which should be reinforced of your ashes.

And some say that the grid is the natural destiny of us all. Is it true? Well ... Will it hurt? Who knows ...

If I think of all the distance that now separates me from home. The immense effort that I have to do to endowed her. The exhaustion of the whole body when the destination is near, but not enough yet to see it, and it is only a hint.

When you start calling from far away, the wind that flows on me gives me momentum instead of brake and air

different, unknown smells, the sounds varied and mysterious that arrive every so do not give the same fascination before. Strangers and feel just fine, but not for long.

However, I know that the effort I do I feel everything, and I pay everything, just when I begin to feel the air of the house.

And I will pay even more expensive if not free, I find my corner.

And if anyone wants me to post more, then yes it will be tough ...

It occurs to me that if I return to my hole, he shall go no more.

Maybe that's what I want, too.

I have such a desire to sleep ...

I have such a desire to reach, that even if the condition was that I would not hesitate to accept, now that I am afraid that the air is not enough to sustain me until the end, I have no doubt.

And though it seems a nonsense, I do not know if I see a painting or embroidery.

Voices.

VERSIONE ITALIANA

16-24 MARCH

Luca Matteo / CARLOTTA SENNATO

OPENING SUNDAY 16th of MARCH 6.00 p.m.

Luca Mattei and Carlotta Sennato developed their artistic research separately. Sometimes, though, a common thread is found, which pushes towards focusing on secluded, isolated reality, like a sealed-off world with its rules and laws. The installation – Untitled, 2008 – is a work whose starting point is photography. Photography as an aptitude and a tool at the service of narration. Narrating about homing pigeons - where they live, where they depart from, lends itself to countless interpretations, metaphors, and other possible scenarios. A deep but delicate analysis that seems to trace the personal history of the main characters, offering them the chance to be unique for once and to stand out of the crowd.

This is the starting point for Marina Vagnoni’s text, Everytime I come back, which presents exhibition. This young philosophy senior year student helps us to imagine a world of complex relationships, similar to the human's: A World That comes to life in a small house-Pidgeon cells'space Placed on an urban terrace.